Theo chuckled. “Right away, my fortune,” he said, and the two of them left for the lower decks.
Zander smiled contentedly, sipping at his cup of rum. He and Ace sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, watching the crew.
A small group sat around a pair of dice, playing a game that Echo seemed to be winning, if his wide smile was any indication. Jubal sat hunched over a piece of parchment with a piece of charcoal, drawing. Theo emerged from below deck and began sweeping up glass. Yarrow stood to the side, a cup in hand, teasing him about the spots he missed. The light of the hanging lanterns on deck shed a soft, warm light on the crew of pirate companions.
Zander leaned his head back and looked at the stars, the warm night air kissing his cheek. He breathed in deeply, as if he could gather the sights and smells of the evening in his lungs and hold them there. They’d be leaving the Caribbean soon—the smell of the air would change, the temperature of the water, and with it, who knew what else?
The solid warmth at his shoulder anchored him to the present moment, and he looked over to find Ace watching him. He smiled at her, and the two of them simply looked at each other for a few moments.
“Some story,” Zander said finally.
“Aye, there’s a lot more stories where that came from,” Ace said. “We’ve gotten into some strange situations, us three.”
“Well, I hope to hear them all someday,” Zander said.
“Does that mean you’ll be around long enough to hear them?” Ace asked, looking at her feet.
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Ace said, turning her cup around in her hands. “Say for instance I told them to you, one by one. Say I only told you two or three in a year. How many do you think we’d get through, before… before you move on to something new?”
She looked at him then, her expression schooled into something like indifference. But Zander noticed the slight crease in her brow, the way her nose flared, the white-knuckle grip she had on her cup. For some reason, she still didn’t trust that he wanted this—that he wanted her.
He put his hand on her thigh, his heart beating like a wild animal trying to break out of his chest.
“I’ll be here for all of them,” he said fervently. “And hopefully, I’ll find something new right here, with—”
“Captain!”
Ace and Zander both jumped, ripped from their moment by Aled’s call from across the deck.
“What,” Ace said sharply.
“Sing us a song!” Aled called back.
“Aye Captain, sing!” echoed Jurgen.
“Ahh, fuck off, all of you!” Ace said, waving her hand.
“Ah, but it’s been so long since you sang,” Saila endeared. A murmur of agreement came from the crowd.
Ace looked at Zander, and he smiled encouragingly. He didn’t know Ace could sing. He wasn’t about to disagree with the crew and prevent her from doing so now.
Seeing the eagerness on his face, Ace sighed, stood up, and drained her drink.
“Alright,” she announced. “You want me to sing you lot to sleep then, is that it?” Another murmur of agreement, and Zander noticed some of the crew get comfortable in anticipation. Ace leaned back against the railing and took a deep breath.
What came next had Zander struggling to remember how to breathe. Ace’s voice, deep and beautiful when she spoke, was hypnotic when she sang. The hairs on his neck and arms stood up, Ace’s voice filling his body like a siren call, and he wanted nothing more than to jump into her ocean and swim there forever.
Long have I wandered
For years and years, I’ve roamed
I have crossed many waters
But I have not found a home
Late I have planted my feet
But the wind it howls and moans
I feel it come to take me away
It calls, ‘it’s time to go.’
While wandering I met a fellow
He seemed so brave and fair
His countenance chilled, his kisses they thrilled
His hands ran through my hair
And so I gave up my wandering
He loved me, or so he said
He made me a mother, and gazed at another
